


In Little Confidence

by Mystic_Words



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Angst, Break Up, F/M, Humor, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2018-12-01 12:05:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11486034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystic_Words/pseuds/Mystic_Words
Summary: Vids have a formula to them.A hero, or in this case heroine, takes on the role of saving everyone, whether they want it or not. They stand off against menacing enemies, experience loss, and struggle to convince the world that they are good and have the power to take down evil. Well-rounded adventure vids always add in the extra elements of epic battles, witty friendships, and captivating romances before an awful event springs the team into a final push to achieve victory. They all come out okay to the sound of cheering and celebration, but sometimes they don’t.For all their futures, she hoped they got the happy ending.Yet life was not a movie, and there was no guarantee that she was even a hero in this story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Raise your hand if you were thrown completely off by Reyes' introduction. Here is a story of Sara's struggle to introduce romance into her life in Andromeda. Here's to finally posting some of my work on here! As you know, I of course have no claim to Mass Effect Andromeda or any of its characters.

  
_Two Weeks Ago_  


  
There was a certain shade of orange in the sunsets of Kadara that the Earth never had. Whether it was the sulfurous pits, abundant and dangerous, or just the atmosphere, they had almost a romantic quality to them. Or maybe it was just the company she was keeping during this particular sunset.

In the past few weeks, the universe had given her something completely unexpected. The role of a Pathfinder included exploring new planets for homeworlds, making first contact with new species, and protecting outposts so that she could ensure her people’s safety. This did not include flirting heavily with the man who had become an object of her complete affection.

In between trips on the Tempest, Liam had been introducing the Pathfinder to the best vids in the Nexus archive. The talk was both a stress relief tactic and a method of ruling out choices for movie night, but in order to keep their leader on task it was just called “team bonding.” And while Sara Ryder was able to take the opportunity to learn more about her crew members, including the ex-cop and all others in the Tempest with nothing better to do, she learned even more about these vids and how her life in Andromeda was starting to feel like it. “They all seem the same after a while, right?” Liam handed her another drink, but the thought left Ryder hesitating to take a sip of it.

Vids have a formula to them.

A hero, or in this case heroine, takes on the role of saving everyone, whether they want it or not. They stand off against menacing enemies, experience loss, and struggle to convince the world that they are good and have the power to take down evil. Well-rounded adventure vids always add in the extra elements of epic battles, witty friendships, and captivating romances before an awful event springs the team into a final push to achieve victory. They all come out okay to the sound of cheering and celebration, but sometimes they don’t.

For all of their futures, she hoped they got the happy ending.  
Yet life was not a movie, and there was no guarantee that she was even a hero in this story.

Was it following the plot line so far? An outsider would say so. The Archon had certainly targeted the Initiative, or her specifically, and already created plenty of firefights. Without her father and her brother, the Pathfinder would feel alone in a strange new galaxy if she hadn’t been accepted by Andromeda’s best and brightest. Brightest, though, might be a stretch for them after she poisoned them all with her frequent sarcastic remarks. And to finally convince the angara that she was on their side at least gave her a chance to recover from constantly jumping through hoops.

But as she knew, life was not a movie. And that man originally slated to take on the role of “romantic interest” was not the one holding her whiskey-heated body in between the stacked crates on the metal balcony and the many buckles of his outfit, one hand twisted in her chestnut hair as the other’s nimble fingers sought their way under her waistband to her warm folds.

No, real life was not like the vids at all. Because just as the universe gives, the universe can take it away.

\---

  
_Four Weeks Ago_

  
It was three times—or possibly now four—that Ryder stayed glued to her desk chair reading through Jaal’s e-mail.

 _“Dearest”_ the e-mail had started with.

No one had ever called her such a name before. She had felt lighter than air as she read the message in her quarters over and over, just knowing that the man who wrote these words was footsteps away. If the kett knew that the Pathfinder could be reduced to a puddle simply by emails filled with praises written by an alien with twinkling galaxies in his eyes, the Archon should have just kidnapped Jaal and the omni tool he had been given.

It had never been easy to grasp her attention romantically. Back in the Milky Way, Sara went on one failed first date after another with men of all species and varieties with no luck, not even any feelings of butterflies. When those didn’t work, she even had drinks with a sweet asari, thinking she was just trying the wrong type of person. Yet again, she felt nothing.

Then, of course, there was the “Worst Offenders” list. Scott had decided to keep a list of all of Sara’s poor decisions for dating that he deemed as the most hilarious. First, there was a human boy named Jaysen from the Citadel who attempted to steal wine for their date from a bar that was manned by a krogan bouncer. Then there was Aurelianus, who talked Sara into spending a night at his place before being shipped out to go on a highly dangerous mission to put down geth infiltrators. The “it got pushed back another day” excuse he used when they bumped into him the next afternoon did not go over well. And finally, Scott’s favorite, was Jonathan. While one of the nicest men his sister had found, the man cried in bed. Twice.

“Face it, sis.” Scott waved the datapad detailing all of her romantic mistakes. “You have terrible taste in men.”

Sara sighed melodramatically. “The worst.” Her twin reassured her that when she “grew up” and became an adult, she would gain a level head. To that, Sara responded “You first.” But Scott was true: Sara had a poor taste for romance.

Was Jaal like her previous romantic choices? Not exactly. There was a softer and more straight-forward approach to his words. He had certainly let her know what he felt about her as he joined her crew. She was an alien that needed to be proved as trustworthy, and therein lied the problem. He had given her hope that there was a way for her to find out what made him tick.

In the end, or possibly just the middle of her story of how she pioneered a peaceful relationship with an alien species, her hard work paid off. Little by little, Jaal began to open up to her about his culture, his family, and his feelings towards her. Jaal told her that she was interesting, that he enjoyed spending time with her. Jaal had made one thing very certain to her.

Jaal made her feel _special_.

Special, however, meant that someone was unique, and it was starting to seem that Jaal’s affections for others was not a unique experience. With Peebee, it was almost expected that he would start to respond positively to her constant sexually-charged comments. After all, they were not only relentless but also completely intrusive. Ryder said she didn’t find anything wrong with it.

Drack, however, did notice when a biotic kickback knocked over every pot and pan in the galley.

Then, when Jaal started to praise Cora’s “physique” aloud to other members of the crew on route to the Nexus, their team’s leader could sense her perceptions of the matters change. The Pathfinder never recalled anyone else making objective observations about her second’s body, certainly not when they were holding on for dear life as Ryder navigated the Nomad through the ice on Voeld. Crazy and inappropriate Peebee was understandable, but by-the-book and serious Cora? Normally, the Pathfinder loved investigating clues and solving puzzles, but this was one scenario she just could not wrap her head around.

It was not until they returned the Moshae to her home did her patience break as she descended the steps of the Resistance Headquarters to find Jaal swarmed by a trio of touchy angaran women. Was it just that _everyone_ and their mother—or mothers—was special to him? The rage that filled her almost led her to send individual messages to every member of her crew aside from Jaal that the Tempest was leaving for Kadara port, just so they would accidentally leave him in Aya.

\---

  
By the time they had finally reached the “Exile’s Swampy Paradise” as Liam had uncreatively named it, the Pathfinder was operating at a low simmer. Either no one had noticed it or were choosing to be polite by avoiding the whole subject. Cora was taking the time to check through every weapon in the entire ship in the apparent situation of an ambush by the entire planet. Vetra and Drack had spent the entire trip prepping her with their tips for Kadara. Their “who’s who” and modern history lesson on the planet was a welcomed distraction. Though, it was hard to focus on anything else with the ridiculous and dangerous stories she was hearing.

“There’s probably more weapons behind the bar at Kralla’s Song than there is alcohol,” Drack bellowed as he finished serving her whichever surprise he decided to make that night.

“It’s really that dangerous inside of the city?” The Pathfinder happily grabbed the plate from the Krogan. “I know bar fights happen, but wouldn’t some law enforcement be around?”

Vetra adjusted the way she leaned against the refrigerator. “Considering the type of people Sloane Kelly keeps in her company, they’d probably only march in to make sure someone doesn’t miss out on their protection fees.”

“Sounds like a great place to settle down and raise a family,” Ryder quipped. “Think I’d be able to swing a penthouse apartment?”

SAM’s voice cracked through just the, bringing an end to the Pathfinder's information session. “Pathfinder, our estimated time of arrival for Kadara port is ten minutes. Kallo is requesting your presence in the bridge.”

“Thanks SAM, tell him I’ll be up in just a second. Thanks for the food, Drack.”

“No problem, kid.” Drack left out a plate for the others to take from. “Can’t knowingly let you go into a new place on an empty stomach. They might poison your food.”

\---

  
Kadara was almost exactly as she had pictured it, just with more neon signs. The port was dirty, fearsome, and gave off a tense feeling that made her skin crawl. If it wasn’t the kett-head-on-a-spike exhibit at the landing pad that convinced her getting Vehn Terev was going to be easy, it was probably the armed guards beating the vulnerable citizens.

The meeting place, Kralla’s song, was even worse on the inside. She would have expected a place like this to be in perpetual bar fight. Suddenly, not having a pistol at her hip seemed like a bad idea, even with the “no guns” rule exiled queen Sloane Kelly had implemented.

It was hard to imagine that anything in this place would catch her eye, until she finally met her contact.  
Captivating and cliché, _he_ walked in. No, _sauntered_. As they would have once said back on Earth, he was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Even his opening line dripping with honey was stolen straight out of a player’s guide. “You look like you’re waiting for someone.” As he ordered them a drink from the bartender, who did actually have weapons behind the bar, Sara remembered advice her father once shared with her.

_“You can tell a lot by what a person drinks.”_

It was the “Ryder Clan Reunion Dinner” that finally managed to pull the whole family back together from their work. Grief can do that for a person, even though her mother forbade any conversation about sickness that night. When enough thought was put into it, it wasn’t exactly untrue. Alec appreciated malt beers, strong enough to deter weaker beings and swirled with dark colors that hid what he was thinking. Her mother, always the classy intellectual, appreciated vodka martinis. What she drank was as translucent as her soul. As for Scott, it was never as poetic. Her twin preferred brightly colored drinks that were as loud and big as his personality.

The stranger offered her a steel cup that matched his own. _“What about whiskey?” Sara asked as she poured herself another sip. “What does that say about a person?”_ Her head tipped back as she swallowed the drink in one mouthful.  
  
_“Well in a woman as bright and confident as yourself, it says just that. You know, you got that one straight from your mother.” Ellen shook her head at her husband and flashed him a sweet smile. Sara just scoffed and rolled her eyes, smacking Scott on the arm when he started to protest. “But with a man…With a man it’s different. Whiskey is a drink that every man thinks he ought to drink. It makes him seem relatable and straightforward. But on the inside, there’s a fire in him that can ease you or burn you. You won’t know what kind he is until you’ve already felt the pain.”_

Sara could still feel the twinge of the alcohol in the back of her throat as Reyes Vidal finally introduced himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do not own Mass Effect nor its characters.

_Present_

Puzzles were relaxing for Ryder, except in three circumstances. The first is that some puzzles, no matter how many times she left and came back to them, were just too difficult to solve. Sometimes she was just too wound up to be able to focus on figuring out the mystery. Finally, there were just some puzzles that, when finished, were not the picture that she expected or enjoyed. As the Pathfinder sat amongst the blinking lights of the Tempest’s Tech lab, she might have been experiencing a combination of all three.

It was only hours after they squashed the threat on Podromos from the Roekaar, and it was a difficult fight. Ryder was busy trying to find some way to dampen the bioelectric capabilities for the next time they ran into Akksul or the kett, now knowing what the enemy once was. Her good intentions were not working out as she hoped; not a single thing she tried with all the resources she pooled together seemed to do what she wanted. Should she focus on modifying the ammunition she used in her pistol? Or maybe she could create a device to detonate electric shocks. Or she could install a device into her armor to send out a pulse if they managed to get close to her. 

Needless to say, the attempts were pointless. Except, SAM decided that it needed to be said.

“At your current pace, the estimated time of your completion of this project is two days and fourteen hours. The time it would take would be reduced if you were to speed up your decision-making process.”

“Don’t need to hear it, SAM.”

Next followed the only logical thing she could think of: throwing everything she was working with onto the table and walking away. Only, she did not account for looking for the giant purple alien walking into the room at the same time.

“ _Oof._ ” Angaran chests were not as soft as she had hoped.

“Sara, I, Ryder-” Jaal stammered at her, just as stunned. “I apologize.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She said as she pushed past him towards the bridge, but a strong hand grabbed her arm. Bright, swirling pools of deep blue met the twinkling ice cool irises filled with confusion and alarm. His hand released her arm as he took in a deep breath.

“Again, I…apologize. I was hoping…To have a conversation with you.”

Before Ryder could answer, Kallo’s voice broke through on the ship’s comms. “Ryder, we’ll be planetside in ten minutes.”  She sighed and offered Jaal a silent apology of her own before turning to walk up the stairs.

\---

_3 Weeks Ago_

Reyes was starting to become a more interesting business partner than she expected. Coming to Kadara, Ryder could guess that her job could get a little darker than she was used to. After fighting Sloane Kelly for Vehn Terev’s life, a measly five minutes of conversation, and the possible location of a kett transponder, she realized just how low she could go.

The smooth-talking smuggler was bringing it out in her, even though the bloodbath she was standing in was not the first murder scene she had investigated in Andromeda. However, it was much more chaotic of a situation than digging through sand on Eos. There was no doubt in her mind at this point that the killers wanted to be found. Before, it seemed more about making a statement while they continued to operate from the shadows. Drack even took a moment to carefully step over blood tracks in the structure, surprising everyone.

“You seem invested in this, old man.” Smugness pierced every word of Vetra’s subharmonics. “Enjoying being a detective?”

“Feh,” Drack scoffed. “I’m just trying to rotate my hips back in place. Think I knocked in out of alignment when I took down that fiend back there.”

“Don’t you mean ‘we’ took it down?”

“If you think you were helping, I got news for you Nyx.”

Sara paused her investigation, considering entering the conversation to break it up and bring them to focus. Yet since she was the only one doing any work _and_ keeping Reyes informed, she let them debate. Instead, her eyes were drawn to the large knife sitting on top of the crate. “A knife. Killer must’ve dropped it during the getaway. Something’s carved into the blade.”

“It’s Shelesh, the angaran trade language,” explained SAM.”’A home filled with strangers becomes a prison.’”

“Sounds pretty Roekaar.”

“This inscription along with the DNA and footprints supports the theory proposed by Mr. Vidal, Pathfinder.” Ryder was almost impressed. Seems like the vagabond she paired with also had a brain.

The voice belonging to the man in question crackled over her comm. “Let’s pay our local Roekaar a visit.”

Ryder shut down her scanner and signaled for the worst dynamic duo to move out. “You know where they are?”

“I wasn’t sitting on my ass all this time. I’m looking at the place right now.”

So Reyes had a brain and used it, too. Maybe Ryder was slightly more than impressed. “Send me the coordinates. These murders stop today.”

The Nomad ride to the Roekaar hide out proved to be even more overwhelming than what they were doing, only because Vetra and Drack could not get over their previous conversation. “Do you really think that you’ve killed more kett than I have, kid?” As much as Ryder had grown fond of Drack since she welcomed him aboard the Tempest, there were many more calming sounds she would have preferred to hear while she navigated the rocky hills of Kadara. This could include the music played at Vortex, SAM’s weather reports, Suvi’s detailed description of Havarl’s mineral deposits, Reyes’ voice…

The last thought to pop into her head was actually disturbing. It only gave her proof that the innocent flirting she was engaging in was turning into a crush. The word _crush_ sounded so juvenile. But what else would you call it when she could feel the edges of her mouth curling into a smile every time she heard his voice? Her heart skipped a beat every time she looked at him, getting pulled deep into his seductive look. How she would love to feel the hard muscles under his bronze skin-

A rocky bump underneath the wheels brought her back to the present, giving her a sharp reminder of how unprofessional it was to fantasize about colleagues while on a mission. Imagining colleagues inappropriately at all at any point in time was wrong, but doing so on a mission was just plain dangerous. A quick visual check of the other members of the cabin once they reached the navpoint sent by Reyes confirmed that no one was hurt. Just another event to add to the reasons why Ryder was a horrible driver.

“This is it. Reyes actually gonna show up?” Drack grunted as he exited the Nomad, letting out a loud thud as his boots hit the ground.

Ryder stepped out as well, sights focused on the building in front of them. It was small and solitary with no sign of other structures around. “Reyes should be there,” she said to him, trying to reassure herself this wasn’t some sort of trap set up by her new friend in order to get to the Nexus supply lines. She signaled for the pair to follow her into the building, one hand ready to pull out her pistol if needed.

“So is there something going on, you and Reyes?” Vetra sauntered on into the building and brought up the subject like they were at a cocktail party. She knew her flirting wasn’t obvious, but she didn’t expect it to be brought up as they were walking through the front door of a hostile base.

Ryder stiffened automatically, entering defense mode. “That’s not-”

Let today be the first and only day she was pleased to be harrassed by Roekaar. The firefight itself was not as challenging as her past dealings with the rogue group, thanks to the fact that Reyes showed up with explosives. Now his checklist included handsome, charming, smart, and resourceful. This one was shaping up to be someone she could bring to the Tempest and Cora would actually hesitate before refusing. And then she would refuse, because he was an exile and a smuggler.  

“The streets of Kadara are safe again. You did good, Ryder.” Reyes’ voice oozed with some form of sultry appreciation that almost sounded serious. “Don’t worry, I’ll let all the important people know who to thank.”

“We make a good team.” Ryder couldn’t help it. The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could even speak.

Reyes walked up to her side, deliberately brushing his arm against hers. “Careful, I’ll start thinking you like me.”

Ryder shot back, the adrenaline from the fight keeping her so quick to respond. “Would that be so bad?”

“Depends. Don’t be a stranger, Pathfinder.”

In that moment, she decided she wouldn’t.

Drack grunted. “Hey, we’re still here.”

\---

The weapons locker was starting to look like a garbage dump rather than a storage center. Although the rarest space to be visited by any member of the crew for more than 2 minutes of a time, the team all managed to collectively create a mess that may have not been cleaned since the Tempest first took flight in Andromeda.

Cora scrolled through the datapad in her hand, looking through the duty rosters. “See? I had it right here. This job belongs to Drack.” Ryder took the datapad she was given, shaking her head as she read what Cora had just told her.

“Drack, why does the weapons locker look like something exploded in it?”

“Hey, don’t look at me,” Drack’s voice sounded through the Tempest’s all-ship comms. “I told Vetra that I wanted to be on cooking duty instead, so I gave it to her.”

Vetra spoke up before Ryder could even ask. “And I gave it to Peebee because she wouldn’t have to walk far from the escape pod she loves to camp out in so much.”

Ryder opened her mouth to speak, but Peebee cut her off. “I traded it with Liam. Specifically traded the job for all of my snacks. If anyone could spare some from their stash, it’d be much appreciated.”

“Heard my name, this about the weapons locker?” Ryder was now beginning to give up on the game of hot potato. “I gave the job to Jaal since I know he has that sweet kett rifle he wanted to take care of.”

“So this comes to me, then.” This was it, the exact moment Ryder stopped trying. “I had passed along the task to Drack because I knew he greatly enjoyed guns.”

Cora scoffed next to her. “So does this keep going around in a circle, or can I assume that no one is doing this job?”

A chorus of lame agreement echoed throughout the ship.

“This is Andromeda’s hope for survival? Should I tell Addison we’re all going to starve to death now or later?”

“Shut it, Gil, or you can be the one to tell her why the Pathfinder has willingly jumped out the airlock." Notable silence followed Ryder’s declaration. Ryder turned to the Lieutenant, her ponytail swishing against her shoulder. “I’ll cut you a deal, Cora. I’ll take on this if you take care of some of the paperwork I haven’t done.”

Cora’s sharp eyes narrowed at the Pathfinder. “I know you hate paperwork. Just how far behind are you?”

“Only some,” she said, flashing a cheeky smile. Ryder walked up to the weapons locker, picking up the nearest pistol to check. “You’re welcome!”

She could not hear Cora leave, nor did she remember what time that was after working so long in the room thinking up new upgrades she could give the crew for advantages over the kett. It wasn’t until Vetra interrupted did Ryder’s wheels stop turning.

“So…About before…” the turian started to say, startling the human. “You never answered my question.”

“What question?” Feigned innocence was Scott’s specialty, not Sara’s. In fact, acting at all to cover her emotions was downright impossible for her. However, reading people was a skill that she did possess, and Ryder was reading that Vetra wasn’t buying it.

“You. Reyes. Are we getting another crew member that lives in your quarters or what?”

Ryder dropped the ammunition cache she was carrying. “What?”

“There’s something going on between the two of you.” Her subharmonics chimed in a teasing tone.

Suvi, the most wonderful woman onboard the Tempest, chose that exact moment to interrupt. “Ryder, there’s a call from Reyes waiting when you’re available.” Vetra’s plates pulled back into what only could be described as a smirk, before she turned and walked out the door.

So, not all interruptions great, but this couldn’t be too bad. Just the rumors would be. _‘Damn.’_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is up so quickly because most of it was already written and my laptop might be breaking in half. Nothing inspires writing like pure fear of losing it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took long to put out. Not only was it a bit difficult for me to write it all out, but I went on a mini vacation. But now we get to explore a bit more of Sara's relationship with her brother and her feelings about being the Pathfinder.  
> Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Mass Effect nor its characters.

_Present_

Tiny lights filled the Pathfinder’s quarters, as Ryder never liked to use the overhead ones in the room. The combination of the stars from outside the window, the various pieces of technology strewn across the room, and the blue of SAM’s hub were enough light for Ryder to type away at her terminal. Each week, the Pathfinder took the time to complete the routine for her e-mails, necessary correspondence that came with the job. Gil sent her the status of the Tempest and its repairs, Suvi had weekly reports of their research efforts, and Vetra sent her a copy of their inventory and current requisitions. To keep each other updated on the fight against the kett, Evfra de Tershaav decided that it was his duty as the leader of the Resistance to keep the Pathfinder informed of their efforts, and Ryder needed to do the same.

Ryder didn’t mind sending e-mails back and forth to Evfra. In fact, the more information he shared with her, the more she realized he trusted her. After a time, it wasn’t just the kett that he spoke about. He also filled her in on what was happening in Aya, how Havarl was stabilizing, and the progress of the settlements on Voeld. And of course, he always made some comment about how Jaal was doing. Ryder could only imagine that the pair had constant communication with each other.

What Ryder did mind was the weekly summaries she was required to send Tann, though she wasn’t able to find where that was stated in the manual. Did she think that she needed an extra report to write when she updated the Nexus on quite literally everything? No. So every week she added in something ridiculous to throw the director off. “Lieutenant Harper fell in love with one of the exiles, they’re thinking about having a summer wedding. The toilet got clogged (by Nakmor Drack) and was fixed with a shotgun (also by Nakmor Drack). The Pathfinder’s SAM unit has killed her and brought her back to life to see if it could be done.”

In just a few days’ time, Ryder came to regret that last one.

Finally, after acknowledging all the reports she received and sending out a few of her own, Ryder would type out her last message. It always read the same each week.

‘ _Harry,_

_It’s been crazy like always here on the Tempest. Hope you’ve been well! Please let me know how Scott is doing, and if there’s been any changes since we talked last._

_Your Friend,_

_Sara”_

“Pathfinder, I have noticed that your serotonin levels drop during your correspondence with Dr. Carlyle.”

Ryder sat back into her seat and turned to look at the bright blue orb that was SAM. “I…What? SAM, I told you to use more layman’s terms. I can’t think fast enough for you sometimes.”

“Apologies, Pathfinder,” SAM glowed. “I had noted this change to be made while you are on the field, but I will make this adjustment as well.”

A few moments of silence passed in the room. “SAM? Layman’s terms?”

“You are sad, Pathfinder.”

Sara sighed and let the screen on her terminal fade to black. “I already knew that.”

“This is a reaction to Scott’s condition, but I am observing that not all feelings of sadness are the same. This is not the same as your reaction to Alec’s passing, nor Alec’s reaction to Ellen’s passing.”

“It all depends on the situation.” Ryder stood from her seat at her desk and stretched her arms. When Lexi had suggested stretching and yoga to be added to her daily exercise routine, Ryder almost laughed in her face. Shooting kett and dodging Remnant all day was enough exercise. But the first time Ryder felt her lower back crack when she pulled her arms high above her head had her hooked. “Dad was devastated when mom died and tried so hard to stop it from happening. I can’t say that my feelings were as strong when dad died. I think I was more upset that he chose me to take over this mess than the fact that he was gone.” In the large window that dominated her quarters, Ryder could see the bright blue star that centered in the system. “But with Scott…With Scott it’s not the same sadness. It’s not mourning, it’s more like…Worry…Loneliness. I’m not as sad because I have hope that he’ll be awake and back with me soon.”

“Both you and Alec have taught me that hope is a strong motivator,” stated SAM. Ryder had been making process recently on the memories that her father had locked away, though they were not what she expected to see. Her mother’s death was difficult enough to go through, but experiencing it a second time was painful.

Poor Ellen would be devastated to know what had happened to her family now.

“Motivation is also a topic that you have asked of many members of the Andromeda Initiative. If I may ask, Pathfinder, what was your motivation for joining?”

In truth, Sara had no motivation to join the jump to Andromeda, at least not at first. Packing her entire life and shipping it six hundred years to another galaxy with no chance of return was far from sane. Moving to Andromeda was only partly her decision in the end, fueled by the events in her family. With her father’s discharge leading to the tank in her career, and her mother’s death, there was nothing left for her in the Milky Way. “ _I’m going with him_ ,” Scott said to her when he solidified that fact. “ _I want the adventure_.”

 _Adventure_. It had been her brother’s motivator from childhood. He wanted to explore everything the universe had to offer him, and his current job with the military watching a relay was doing little to provide that life study. There were times when Sara would think how Scott would have been a better Pathfinder, that his natural drive to find new wonders would have made him excited for the position she dreaded. It still wouldn’t have been close to Alec’s abilities and motivations, the duty that he felt when he first told his children about SAM’s new purpose and the project he was going on.

Sara did not have either of these; all that was left was a dried-up well of opportunities. So, she clung to the only thing she could think of.

“Hope. Hope is the one thing we’ve managed to keep since we got to Andromeda. I’m not giving it up now.” A ping sounded from her terminal, interrupting her thoughts.

“Pathfinder, you have new e-mail at your terminal.” The worst thing about SAM’s necessity to remind someone if they have messages was that the system never really bothered to say who it was from. A small part of her hoped that Harry had already responded to her. She walked back to her terminal, not even bothering to sit down in her chair, and flicked the screen back on. No message from Harry, but a short e-mail from Jaal titled “Need To Speak With You.” It screamed “urgent” to her, and Sara made a beeline for the Tech Lab.

\---

_Two Weeks Ago_

“You’re one person I’ll happily owe something.” Umi’s groan of discussed dragged Ryder out of her thoughts, lost in how smooth this man could possibly be. Ryder was trying to delve into the deep of Kadara’s questionable business world, and she had thought it was going to go well. What could have gone wrong when you’ve got a new partner, both competent and gorgeous, and forty percent of the profits?

There were parts to Reyes that made her feel like she was at home in the Milky Way again. Flirting at the bar, firing one line after another to each other, made her feel like she was plain old Sara. But when she caught him looking at her like she was the only woman in the room, Sara felt _special_.

Of course, as they always say, reality hits hard when it comes crashing back down. It fell at the feet of Zia Cordier’s corpse, reminding how careful Ryder needed to be when she was on this planet. Kett were predictable. Kett wanted to kill or capture you to make more kett. Roekaar were predictable. Roekaar wanted to kill aliens of all races.

Smugglers and exiles were unpredictable, even to Reyes. As much as they were forming a bond, Ryder really had to ask debate with herself over her friend. Could she trust Reyes? Was he really a better man?

“Ryder, I’m starting to think you’re getting in over your head.”

Did Ryder always want a sister? Yes, especially when she and Scott were younger and tended to bicker more than bond. Physically, Scott was weaker than Sara for about half of their childhood. Scott was always the smaller twin and Sara used the classic tactic of taking him down with any physical force necessary to win the fight. It was a good thing the pair managed to get over their differences when they hit their teenage years and puberty found her brother. To take her down, Scott had to use other methods to get under her sister’s skin. The day he found out that _words_ worked better than punches, Scott never let up. It was those times when Sara would have wanted an older sibling, a sister like Vetra, that could put him in his place.

There were times when she also did not want an older sibling. Those times were when she was yet again navigating the Nomad through the rocky cliffs of Kadara. “Vetra, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Can you really trust this guy? I mean we just got shot at and nothing came out of it.” Ryder didn’t turn her head to see her, but she could feel the waves of concern coming from her, disappointment in the undercurrent of it.

“I don’t think I need a lecture right now.” Ryder’s response was tenser than she intended. “We got rid of a team of bad guys, I’d call that a win!”

“Yeah…Not really how I saw it there.” Vetra crossed her arms and leaned back in our chair. “Get too close to any of these guys and they’ll have your head. They’ve got power here and some of them would be stupid enough to go against the Initiative.”

“Maybe Sloane, but not Reyes.”

“Maybe.” Ryder spared a glance towards Vetra and caught a very prominent eye roll. “What? It’s not like I’m going to go out partying with the guy.”

\---

Three days later, Ryder went out partying with Reyes.

It wasn’t really a party, as she told herself. It was _Sloane’s_ party that Ryder had been given a golden opportunity to attend. Ever since they left the Remnant vault, Kadara’s viability numbers soared. The air was far less humid and the water no longer caught on fire. After only a few days, SAM reported that its toxicity levels were down,  and they were on a fast track to having a water supply. Kadara was shaping up to be one of the most comfortable planets they had ever stepped foot on, the closest yet to their promised “golden worlds.” There was just one blemish on Kadara that needed to be sorted out.

Sloane Kelly.

There was no doubt that the “Queen” hated Ryder, and Ryder could honestly feel the same the more contact she had with her. Still, hate was not going to get her an outpost for her people. Sucking up and kissing ass probably would, even if it left a bad taste in Ryder’s mouth. The party would be a good idea, she thought.  

The situation on the Tempest was already tense enough, though at no fault of her own. The team had made a stop at Aya for necessary supplies for the Tempest and to deliver a strange artifact that Avela Kjar might be interested in. That’s when Liam dropped Ryder into the viper pit and placed her in the middle of a domestic disaster. Drack had to act like a wall in between the two tiny humans so the Pathfinder wouldn’t have Liam’s ass on the floor of the Tavetaan. After that, the team took a very awkward walk back to the Tempest to take flight, only for Suvi to stop her as she walked in.

“Ryder, you have a missed call from Reyes.”

A few sniggers and whispers came from the other women on her team. “Guys, what’s going on?”

Peebee was the one to jump in to answer. “Your _boyfriend_ was looking for you.” Ryder narrowed her eyes at her disapprovingly. “Hey, I get it. I have needs. I’d climb all over that man right now if I were you.”

“Peebee…” Ryder’s face was beginning to turn pink.

“All I’m asking is to save some from the rest of us. Quit hogging all the good men.”

Ryder was about to head to her room, but she turned around and looked straight at Peebee. “What do you mean?”

“Uhh, Jaal? That big, sexy, mysterious alien that keeps making puppy eyes at you?”

 _Jaal!_ In all the stir that had been happening over the past few weeks, Ryder must have had only one or two conversations with the man, and they were both about Akksul and the Roekaar. Ever since Ryder had shifted her focus to Reyes, it was like the man never even existed. Ignoring a member of her team, one that she was not keeping a strictly professional relationship with, would be detrimental if it went wrong.

“Doesn’t… Doesn’t he have you to talk to?”

“About the Remnant, yes. About actual things in his life, he prefers you for that.”

Ryder wasn’t always the best with words. For this situation, she really didn’t have any. “I…What?”

Peebee walked through the door to the escape pod. “Just go talk to him, I’m no messenger.”

“I’ll…I’ll go talk to him.”

Ryder left Peebee and headed over to the Tech Lab, and Peebee made sure to get the word in to her retreating rear. “Good! Go get it girl!”

As she reached the Tech Lab, Ryder knew there was no way that she was going to “get it,” not with anyone. Ryder knew that she needed to talk with Jaal, set things straight between them. Even if she didn’t know exactly what that meant. Ryder peeked into the lab and saw him working at a station, humming away to a light tune. Though the sight was adorable, Ryder could feel her stomach sinking deep into her stomach. It felt as if she was staring down the Archon for the first time again.

Talking with Jaal about what was happening between them, or what had happened and no longer seemed to be happening, was _hard_. Ellen always told her that when you had an issue with someone, you’re supposed to “talk it out” and communicate about the problem. Normally, Sara was better at this than Scott, but Andromeda was a new galaxy, a new game. Everything she knew had already gone out the airlock, and self-doubt was quick to fill the empty spaces

It shouldn’t be so difficult to talk to someone that, despite his tendency to be a flirt, was still a good person with a kind soul. Ryder had never been with someone that was truly good, it just never seemed right. In the more that she learned from Jaal about his past, his family, and his goals, Jaal was simply _good_.

And good was too good for Ryder.

After taking a deep breath, Ryder turned away from the tech lab. She ascended the steps to the Tempest’s meeting room, her hands slightly trembling, and sent in a call to Reyes. His form flickered next to her in blue light. “Ryder, I was just thinking about you.”

Talking with Reyes was nothing like talking with Jaal. Talking with Reyes wasn’t hard at all, more like a rewarding challenge that allowed her to let loose. Talking with Reyes was familiar, a dance she completed many times before in a different galaxy far away. “I’d love to hear more, but this isn’t a private channel.”

“I could tell you over drinks.” Ryder almost let out an audible scoff. By now, she had learned her lesson about trusting the man to cover her tab. “Sloane’s holding a get-together for the locals. I managed to snag an invite. Care to be my plus one?”

“Are you asking me out?”

The Tempest was definitely the Andromeda Initiative’s most innovative work, because even over vidcall she could hear all the charm Reyes was pouring into his words. “I promise to be the perfect gentleman.”

“And if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?” Ryder swore to herself this was still part of their little flirting game. It was all just simple teasing, but in the end they would both keep this professional. Wouldn’t they?

“That can be arranged.”

When she ended the call, Ryder was feeling something other than terror at the pit of her stomach. It was just a party to win over some of Sloane’s favor, to begin redeeming the Nexus’ relationship with Kadara.

It was _just_ a party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait, as August has marked the beginning of business again. I'll always update as soon as a chapter is finished, but it now may be longer than usual. So much has happened since the last update: this chapter has finally gotten this story to pass the Bechdel test and challenged me on my smut writing, a skill I haven't employed for a long time. For those readers here who are saddened by the news of EA's decision to no longer support single-player in Mass Effect: Andromeda, I am sorry and confident that this is not the end for this great franchise.   
> WARNING: This chapter is NSFW.   
> DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to own any part of the Mass Effect franchise nor its character.

_Present_

“Kallo, change of plans. Set a course for Havarl.” Without stopping, Ryder stated the order and then requested access to the escape pod that Peebee stowed herself in. “How’s that upgrade going to Zap?”

“Hey Ryder, you’re just in time.” The asari put down the tool she was using to power up the Remnant VI. As it whirred back to life, the VI began to hover through the air and hum. “Your little buddy here now has missiles.”

Walking over to Peebee’s side, the Pathfinder used her omni-tool to reestablish the connection between her and the VI. “Well, aren’t you cool?” Ryder knew that its capabilities to understand spoken language were nonexistent, yet she still felt touched when its plates moved out and in. She focused her attention back to Peebee. “You are seriously awesome for this, you know that, right?”

Peebee shrugged her shoulders, then answered with complete and utter sarcasm. “No, I had no idea. Please, tell me all about it in great detail.”

“If I had time, then you know I would.” She paused, a frown forming on her face. “Peebee, how much control do I have over Zap’s targets in the middle of the fight?”

“Hm…” Peebee’s eyes gravitated up to look at the ceiling, a sign that she was thinking. “Well you could switch to manual controls and identify each target. If you do that, Zap won’t—well—zap anybody until you say so.” Ryder placed her hands on her hips and looked back at the VI, considering the option. “Why do you ask, anyway?”

Ryder sighed and prepared herself for part two of why she came knocking. “I need to be able to distinguish between Roekaar. There are some that we need to keep safe. And I trust you to do it with me.”

“Ryder, what’s going on?”

After she pressed the button to close the door of the escape pod, Ryder began to brief PeeBee on what she had just witnessed in the Tech Lab.

\---

_Two Weeks Ago_

Parties: the epitome of Ryder’s discomfort. Nothing was worse than being shoved into a crowded room for the purpose of a social gathering and being forced to mingle. One-on-one interactions in a professional setting were typically more productive than shindigs like this. Then again, there was nothing about Kadara that was professional.

At the last party she attended, Ryder tried her best to hide in the shadows. As the Pathfinder’s daughter, that only went so far. It was the “Bon Voyage Ball” for the Andromeda Initiative on the Citadel, and only the most important individuals of the Nexus and the arks were in attendance. This meant all Ryders had to make an appearance.

At least there was an open bar.

 _“Well don’t you look nice,_ ” Scott had told her on the way to the party. Much to her disdain, she put on a floor-length black gown for the occasion. Two thin straps adorned with rhinestones sat on her shoulders and held up the backless garment. Sara only bought the dress because Ellen picked it out for her.

“ _You don’t look so bad yourself_ ,” Sara said as she brushed off the jacket of his tux. “ _The bright blue bowtie is a nice touch.”_

 _“Really? It’s the color of the Andromeda Initiative logo. I was worried that it would be too much_.”

She giggled, locking her arm in his so they could walk in together. “ _No, it’s very…You.”_

 _“What’s that supposed to mean?”_ They spent most of the party together, listening to speeches, meeting people whose names they wouldn’t remember the next day, and drinking. At one point, Sara had lost Scott only to find him chatting up Cora Harper, and only slightly failing at the flirting attempts. She endured the countless introductions her father made for her and made sure to keep her wine glass filled. She survived the party.

She could survive this party, too.

It would be a great deal easier if she could figure out where Reyes went to. Essentially, she had been left alone since they got there. After she rushed out of the ship to come to this get-together, the fact that she might have been ditched was majorly irritating.

Ryder had felt bad leaving the Tempest so quickly. SAM had alerted her to the fact that Jaal was outside her door when she was finishing getting ready.

“Pathfinder, Mr. Ama Darav is requesting access to your quarters.”

Ryder looked at the clock on her omni-tool and noted that she didn’t quite have the time at the moment for a long conversation. “What does he want?”

“Mr. Ama Darav ended a conversation with Ms. B’Sayle and immediately came to your door. I am unsure of his intentions to speak with you, but I am aware of his increased heart rate.”

Letting out a curse underneath her breath, Ryder closed her omni-tool. “Yeah, I definitely don’t have time for this. Could you let him know I’ll talk with him later? Thanks, SAM.”

“Of course, Pathfinder.”

She felt guilty, yes, but she still agreed to go to this party. Reyes was an ally now, and Kadara was a promising location for an outpost. This was the priority on hand, and she was doing her best to sludge through it. Drink in hand, Ryder was able to exchange “pleasantries” with Sloane, her presence in the party a reminder to the “queen” that the Initiative was not done here. She also met Keema, another potential ally on the planet, who told Ryder that Reyes liked her.

If he liked her so much, then he wouldn’t have left her alone at a party.

It wasn’t at a level of anger just yet, but Ryder’s emotions weren’t exactly in the happiness range. The only option Ryder had left at this point was to go searching for her party date. If she was a smuggler, where would she be?

“Damn it. Why can’t the serial numbers be in the same spot?”

Right. A smuggler would be rifling through the boxes in Sloane’s closet. “ _Take the night off. Come out for a drink._ Should’ve known you were up to something.” With her hands planted firmly on her hips, Ryder gave Reyes the best stern stare she could muster.

“Ryder, it’s not what it looks like,” he said as she confronted him doing exactly what it looked like.

“So you didn’t use me as a distraction to go through Sloane’s stuff?”

After a pause, Reyes admitted to his actions. How dare he start to make Vetra look like she was right? “Okay, yes. But it’s for both our benefit, I promise.”

“You’ve been making a lot of promises.”

Ryder started to sound like she was about to give him a lecture, but Reyes was far too focused on whatever was happening behind her in the hallway. “Shit—someone’s coming! We need a distraction.”

Either he was too panicked to think of the best course of action, or he had specifically planned for her to do this. A man and a woman in a closet of a party that was serving alcohol, and only one option was available for a distraction. Throwing caution to the wind, Ryder put her body on autopilot and leaned in to press her lips against his. Almost immediately, Reyes returned the kiss, melting into her embrace. Ryder was unsure of how long the act should go on.

At some point, it wasn’t an act any more.

The way his hands grabbed at her hips, the little sounds he was making, how sensually his lips moved against hers—all were more intoxicating than the drinks she had been served that night. All too soon, Reyes pulled away from her, but gave her another chance to look back into his hazel eyes. “I think we’re in the clear.”

“Maybe another kiss? Just to be sure.”

He let out a short laugh, a rich chuckle that sent a shiver down her spine. “Now you’re just teasing me,” he said, his voice huskier than usual.

She laughed along with him, though she wasn’t exactly teasing. Ryder was standing at the final point, toeing the line between their flirtatious partnership and going all in. They laughed later as he led her through the busy Kadara market, running hand in hand. Almost getting caught, running away from a danger that wasn’t the kett for once was _liberating._ Ryder hadn’t felt so carefree since her childhood. Happiness seemed so simple in that moment, that all it took was breaking a few rules, climbing to the top of a marketplace, and being hoisted onto a stack of crates to watch the sunset.

Reyes uncorked his prize, his legs dangling over the edge of the ledge. She mimicked his position, but faced the dying light as it passed behind Kadara port. The weight of the metal bottle tapped at her arm and she accepted his silent offering of it, their elbows brushing against each other. The drink went down easy but leaving a sharp burn, the hundreds of years since its inception proving itself in its richness. There they sat for a few moments, passing the whiskey back and forth between them.

“Gorgeous isn’t it? I sometimes forget…Is Andromeda everything you hoped it would be?”

“Every day’s an adventure, even my nights off are interesting.” Ryder peered into the dark opening of the bottle before passing it back for him to drink. “What about you? Why did you come here, Reyes?”

Again, he was silent, the sound of the hustle and bustle below them providing a soundtrack to their evening. Then she heard it, the swallow of his liquid, followed by a deep breath before he spoke, “To be someone.”

If she was standing on the line before, then this was toppling over it. This was it, right? The point of no return. But Sara Ryder had already crossed that point of no return once before, over six hundred years ago. Andromeda had already provided her with enough new twists and turns, and this was just another one to accept. Ryder shifted on the crates to move next to him, to be able to look at what she was about to jump down into.

“You’re someone to me.”

“I’m starting to think that kiss was more than just a distraction.” His gloved fingers caressed her cheek and she could feel the heat of them underneath the fabric, almost as hot as his lips on hers. This kiss was different; it was slower, more tender than their rushed embrace in Sloane’s storage closet. Ryder could feel herself opening to him, allowing him to deepen the kiss. She let him tangle his fingers in her hair, stroking the strands that had fallen out of her ponytail. As he pushed her down to lay on crates she moaned in anticipation, and he took that opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. Their tongues fought for dominance, a dance that mimicked their relationship.

When she broke the kiss, Ryder gasped for air as she trailed her fingers down his vest, searching for the hard muscles underneath. At the sound of a zipper being pulled down, Ryder’s body went taut with realization.

_Were they really going to do this here? Now?_

“Reyes, stop,” she murmured against the shell of his ear, so close that she could nip it with her teeth.

“Forgive me, Ryder,” he said as he pulled away from her. “I got carried away. I should have asked first if you wanted to…” His voice trailed off and his hazel eyes broke contact with her.

Confidence began to trickle out of her quicker than blood did from a stray bullet wound. Ryder took a deep breath to gain some of it back and began to speak. “It’s not that I don’t want… Is there… Anywhere private we could…”

Before she could finish her thought, Reyes was pulling her up and leading her by the hand, almost breaking out into a jog. “I have just the place.” Again Ryder felt the giddiness rise inside her, caught up in the idea that this was a one and only chance to have a night of inhibition.

Reyes pulled her into the lift to Kadara slums, the metal doors squealing behind her as they closed. His back to her, he fiddled with something on his wrist before the elevator could start its descent. “There,” he said before he turned to her, his eyes flashing her a mischievous look.

“What did you do?” Slowly he crept towards her, his smirk growing larger. Ryder took steps backwards in response until her back hit the wall. A few moments later and Reyes’s hand was pressed up against the wall of lift next to her head, his mouth now inches from hers.

“I tampered with the video cameras.” In an instant, his lips were back on hers, capturing them in a searing kiss. Ryder gasped, the shock of the kiss turning into need when his fingers found what they had been questing for before they decided to switch locations. _When did he take his gloves off?_

Ryder had ridden this elevator multiple times. It was slow and loud, but she knew the time it took to reach the Slums from the Port was not enough to get her off. But Reyes was doing a pretty good job to get her close.

Reyes sighed against her mouth as he circled her entrance with one finger, already finding the beginnings of her desire. Instead of plunging in immediately he pulled back to rub at her clit, her insistent moans muffled by his lips egging him on. His ministrations were slow at first, testing her reactions before switching his technique. Reyes moved his hand further down her waistband so that his thumb came to circle her clit and his middle finger rested against where she wanted him. Ryder clutched at his vest, latching onto any buckle or zipper she could, holding herself up as her legs started to buckle. She needed _more_ , she needed to be filled, and before she could break away from him to complain about what she was lacking, he filled the void. His finger slipped in easier now, every flick of his thumb against her clit making her wetter and bringing her closer to her climax. “Please, Reyes,” she begged breathlessly, her mouth free now that he had turned his attention towards mapping her jawbone and her neck. “ _Please.”_ Ryder was close, she could feel in in the way she clenched Reyes’ finger. It felt so good to finally begin to let go in a galaxy that had her constantly tense and on edge-

And then Reyes pulled away, the elevator doors opening. “Dammit,” she whined, eliciting a husky chuckle from her companion.

“Consider that only a preview of our night.” Ryder fixed her pants, giving her semblance of control even if no one else could see her. The underbelly of Kadara was dark, the only lights coming from the neon signs of Tartarus. Aside from the occasional drip of falling water hitting a puddle, the only sounds also came from the nightclub. Reyes led her towards the establishment with a hand gently touching her arm, his fingers trailing up and down lightly, yet hard enough for her to feel underneath her jacket. It was only a quick walk to Tartarus, but the trip took frequent stops: a kiss on the stairwell, a grope against the wall. It made it almost unbearable to take the handful of steps from the front door to Reyes’ rented private room.

Ryder didn’t want to ask the question as to why he brought her here. Did he even have an apartment? Or did he just not want to bring her to it? Why wouldn’t he? Was there something he needed to hide? And yet, all of those questions in her mind melted into emptiness as he tugged the zipper of her jacket down and pushed it off her shoulders. Eager hands, unexpectedly soft, pushed away her clothing layer by layer. The cold air of the nightclub brushed against her bare skin, providing a small bit of stimulation compared to Reyes’s fingers. Flicking at a pebbled nipple, the smuggler kissed and nipped at her neck. Ryder sighed and froze, suddenly aware again of all the people on the other side of the door.

Reyes trailed his mouth south, kissing at the skin on her chest before stopping above where she wanted his lips the most at the moment. “I have been assured that this room is soundproof.” In an instant his mouth was on her nipple, his tongue drawing out a louder sigh from her. As much as she loved the attention she was receiving, the heat from his leather vest was starting to become too much for her.

“You’re wearing too much,” she breathed, her slender hand pulling at the zippers and buckles. Reyes chuckled, his rich voice reminding her of the ache she felt between her legs. Slowly he began to undo his top, a teasing twinkle in his eye. “There’s no time for a strip tease.”

“For you,” he paused, baring his chiseled chest to her, “There is always time.”

Ryder heeded his words, trailing her hands over his chest. She could feel the muscles underneath her fingers as she leaned in for another passionate kiss. Their kisses grew even more desperate and Ryder was no longer unaware of the effect this was having on Reyes. His clothed erection pressed against her and she mewled, begging for more contact. The buttons on her pants that she not long ago had fixed were now undone again and Reyes pushed them down along with her underwear, allowing to have enough room to cup at her ass. Together they moaned, their lips against each other’s muting the sounds.

 _This can’t be real._ Ryder imagined what this could looked like from another perspective. A tanned, suave half-naked smuggler leading a pale, freckled woman to the couch on the far side of a dark lounge room. It almost didn’t seem like it was happening to her, even as he knelt before her seated figure, his hands making quick work of the boots she was wearing to remove the left of her clohtes. The evening had progressed from light to flirty to sincere to _heated_ in such a short time, so short that Ryder almost felt that the kisses he was planting on her thighs as he spread her legs were a dream.

 _No, it’s real_. At least the feeling was as his tongue swiped at her core, his fingers seeking her dripping entrance once more. His movements were quicker than in the elevator, the thrust of his fingers harder and his tongue at her clit matched the pace. She could feel the orgasm rising as it did before, he was easily bringing her back to that level. When he sucked on her clit, Ryder let out a high-pitched shout, cascading over the edge. Reyes removed his mouth from her and his fingers slowed, working her through her orgasm. “Beautiful,” she heard him whisper against her leg, pressing his lips there as if he was sealing a promise.

Reyes stood, admiring his handiwork. More of her brown tresses had come out of her ponytail, framing her flushed faced. Her eyes were half-lidded and focused on him while her chest rose and fall as she took in shallow breaths. That sly smile she had come to adore grew on his face and she could hear the clink of his belt being undone. With every bit of clothing he removed, more of his tanned skin was revealed until finally his erection sprang free.

“Oh.”

Reyes laughed, husky and rich. “Oh? Have I reduced the Pathfinder to speechlessness?”

Standing up on wobbly legs, Ryder shook her head. In the dark red and purple lights of the room, she directed him to take her place on the couch, following him down to straddle his hips. He groaned when she took him in his hand and guided him inside her. With her hands locked around his shoulders, Ryder sunk down until he was fully seated within her. She hissed a sigh, feeling relief from an emptiness she wasn’t even aware of having. When she began to rock on top of him, Reyes focused his attention on kissing her neck and chest. Through the breathless moans and sighs, Reyes was saying something to her. Whatever it was, Ryder wasn’t listening. Ryder was focusing on her skin on his, the slide of his cock within her, and chasing a second peak, a possible reality with the way he was grinding up against her to match her movements.

“You are,” Reyes groaned, “Beautiful. Amazing.” As his lips continued their assault on her chest, Reyes caressed his hands down her side. One came to squeeze at her rear again, the second he placed between them. His own movements were coming faster, with less rhythm and more power. Ryder realized he was rapidly approaching his finish, and he trying to help her climax a second time. “Incredible.” Reyes strained to get his words out, and Ryder could feel him twitching inside her at the precipice of his orgasm.

As he stilled and spilled himself inside her, Reyes pressed his thumb against her clit hard and let out a strangled moan. “ _Sara.”_  

In the dark of the private room of Tartarus, Sara Ryder closed her eyes and saw the stars. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and for bearing with me on the wait! I apologize that this chapter is mostly (rusty) smut if you did not come to read the explicit parts of this story. Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been FOREVER I'm so sorry. Life is beyond hectic and writing is something that I have been doing constantly, just not for pleasure. I may die at my computer screen.   
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of the Mass Effect franchise nor do I own its characters.

_Present_

“Tell me about them.” Ryder’s voice broke through the thick air on the shuttle. PeeBee had mostly tuned out in the ride, entranced by the bright purples and blues in the foliage below. Their ship, headed straight for an angaran landmark, hummed and whirled. Jaal had been bouncing his left foot, the movement noticeable in his knees. Despite the severity of the situation, Ryder had liked seeing that the angara shared some nervous ticks with her. “Your family, I mean.”

A deep rumble resonated from his chest. “I take it you mean those brothers and sisters that we will be finding today, hopefully. This ride is not long enough for me to tell you about my family in full detail.” He huffed, a quick laugh at his own small joke, leading Ryder to smile. After taking a deep breath, Jaal continued in his deep baritone.

“Baranjj—I’m probably the closest to. A strong fighter, full of heart and can knock you off your feet with just one fist.” His lips curled and now he truly laughed. “He’s solid. My true mother thinks that he was born with permanent armor.” Ryder let out a giggle of her own at his thought. “Teviint is passionate and headstrong. She’s not the best shot, but she’s quick and can set up the most cleverly hidden traps.” The smile fell from his lips in a deep sigh. “And then there is Lathoul. Almost as good of a shot as I am, but he never wanted to hurt anyone. The other two probably talked him into this.”

Ryder clenched her hand in hesitation. Tentatively, she reached out and placed it on top of Jaal’s three-fingered fist for comfort. “I promised you we would find them, and I’m not about to go back on my promise.”

Jaal turned to look at her, the galaxies in his eyes glowing. “Thank you, Ryder.”

\---

_Two Weeks Earlier_

Ryder did not hear from Reyes for three days.

It was a silly habit of human men to do that, for some odd reason, always had been on Earth and even for those on the Citadel. They never wanted to seem too “clingy” or wanted to make women chase them. It was cute when the relationships first started; it could always be tied to nervous excitement. If a man did it after sleeping with a woman, then it was plainly just being an ass.

It wasn’t uncommon for Ryder. There were a few nights back on the Citadel that she had met men for a date, ended up in their apartment after a few too many drinks, and never heard from them again. This time felt entirely different and in a weird way, wrong. As an AI programmed to protect her from all harm, SAM had been helping her hold her liquor better as of lately. She might have been buzzed from the incredible whiskey, but nowhere near inebriated, and neither was he. He, Reyes, was also a sort of colleague, and it was all her fault for not trusting her better judgement to stay away.

There was a third reason, one more troubling than the rest. Was this something the Pathfinder should do? Part of her said to screw it all. She was her own person and could do whatever the hell she wanted with whoever the hell she wanted. Yet somehow she wanted to live up to some standard that she never truly understood for a position that she never wanted or even deserved. Maybe it was because she wouldn’t want to hear the lecture Tann would provide if he had found out she took a smuggler to bed.

Well, it wasn’t actually a bed. It was the private room of a dirty strip club in one of the worst places in Andromeda, not that the galaxy had been proving itself to be the paradise everyone expected. Without a mirror, Sara tugged her hair back into a ponytail and hoped her look didn’t make what she had just done obvious. Slipping out in the middle of the night, Sara returned to the Tempest when the rest of her crew seemed to be sleeping.

If SAM had said anything upon her return, she didn’t hear a single word before she passed out in her bed. Waking up the next morning had been confusing, but not in the way she expected.

“SAM, what is this I’m seeing?”

SAM’s port glowed blue. “You will have to be more specific, Pathfinder. I do not _see_ as you do.” There was a pause on the word, as if the AI was using fingers to form quotation marks. “Though I am aware of the anomaly in your room and allowed for it.”

Pushing herself up on her elbows, Ryder blew the hair out of her face and reached for the object on her bedside table. She recognized the scanner as one that the angara used, knowing that there was a global projection feature somewhere on it. “SAM, where did this come from?”

“It was a gift from Mr. Ama Daraav. He stated that he wishes to make amends, and in his culture, this always begins with a gift for the wronged party.”

This would make Ryder the “wronged party,” but for what exactly? Did he figure out his royal mistake when he decided to flirt with two women? Did PeeBee get the same thing?

“You let him inside my room?”

Silence, then another response. “Once I determined that the object Mr. Ama Daraav was attempting to bring into the room was safe, I allowed him access to your quarters for him to leave it. I apologize if my decision was flawed and I will correct this for future references.”

Ryder had already begun to play with the object in her hands, studying the construction of the scanner. “No, it’s fine.”

As much as she appreciated the gift; it meant that it was finally time to stop avoiding his conversation. And so, she resolved to speak with him, on that first day of Reyes’ absence.

Except, the conversation never happened. Liam called for her in a panic, citing just how badly he screwed up. Liam’s personal fuck-up was monumental, a royal flush that belonged in the bottom of the toilet of the Nexus that he may have just sold to their enemies. So in order to protect the entire Initiative from her crew-mate’s stupidity, Ryder had to spend the day helping him. “Helping” may have included a punch or three into Liam’s gut for good measure, but he learned his lesson. And Reyes was silent.

On the second day, Gil asked to see her regarding the transponder they found on Kadara. He finally had the infuriating piece of technology working, and the pair was greeted with kett voices. The Tempest burst into a wild frenzy to prepare for the downright outrageous undertaking that was about to happen. Everything had to be checked on the Tempest: flight controls, response time, defenses. With the test on the ground team’s readiness and ship meeting to plan for their raid of their enemy’s home, it was a busy day for the Pathfinder. And Reyes was silent.

A message from Reyes finally popped up in her terminal on the third day, but Ryder didn’t read it for hours after it landed in her inbox.

Because Ryder had died.

\---

She heard the news during her breakfast of bitter coffee and a dry protein bar.

Ryder had settled into a morning routine at the Prothean dig site: wake up, morning stretches, spend some time sparring with anyone that felt up to it, take a shower, eat breakfast. Every once in a while, the schedule included a call with Scott. Typically, it was a quick ten minute check-in covering the typical topics: how are they doing? What’s new? How’s mom? When’s your next break? This time, it was longer, something they budgeted for due to busy schedule and the fact that they hadn’t talked to each other in a month, the day of their last birthday.

“Yeah Mark said it was the best Blasto film so far. Probably won’t be still playing in theaters by the time we both get a break, but I can rent it. My treat.”

Sara laughed. “Big spender now that he’s on the Alliance payroll. By the way, which one is Mark again? Is that the one that collects old poetry books or the one that thinks you have a good butt?”

His voice crackled again through her omni-tool. It was getting into the night cycle at his station, meaning he only had a few more minutes to spare. The longer she could keep him from starting the goodbyes, the better. 

“No, Mark’s the one with the swoopy hair that likes to play golf. He says ‘hi’ by the way.”

Frowning, Sara attempted to figure out if she remembered the man or not. “Oh, yeah, tell him I say ‘hi’ back.”

Scott sighed. “Hey, I should probably get going—oh wait, did you hear what happened? Terrible.”

“Wha-” Sara would have said a full word had she not choked on her protein bar. Scott actually sounded serious, but not devastated. So it must not have been about mom, but it still must have been bad. “What happened? What’s terrible?”

“Here, I’m sending you the story.” Her wrist pinged, signifying the arrival of a message. Tapping her finger against the interface, she opened it to find the link to an article straight from the Citadel. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp as she read the headline.

_‘First Human Spectre Presumed Dead in Fatal Attack’_

Dead. Commander Fucking Shepard was dead. “Holy shit,” she muttered. “This can’t be real.”

“Apparently it is. They’ve already talked to some of the Normandy’s crew that survived. Said the Commander saved as many of them as possible before the whole thing blew.” Sara took a deep breath, thought about saying something, then sighed again. There really were no words to say. Commander Shepard was, plain and simple, a damn hero. It was unspoken among the two of them, but out of the N7’s they knew about, Alec Ryder wasn’t the one that they actually admired. Scott left her that day saying that it was a noble thing to do, dying for your team.

Maybe that was why she wasn’t afraid of what she was about to do.

What choice did she have, really? SAM calculated zero, and the AI’s job was to determine what choices she could make to be successful. Suspended in some odd forcefield with Cora, the woman with a plan for everything but this exact scenario, was not a hopeful situation. She could wait there until the Archon came back to kill her and try some move, but considering her entire lack of power during their first meeting today, that didn’t seem likely either. Moving at all actually seemed to be out of the question. Plus, Raeka and the rest of the Salarians would be dead by then. Or she could be dead by then by whatever the Archon injected into her body. Either way, her fate spelled death. Besides, it’s not like it was anything new for her.

Dying the first time had been terrifying. Breathless, choking on poisonous air while she desperately tried not to lose the fading image of her father.  Making a conscious decision, with the possibility of coming back, might be  an easier way to go. Maybe SAM will be successful in reviving her. Maybe she’ll just pass out for a second and wake back up, like fainting. Maybe Cora will remember to tell Scott when he wakes up that even though he’s alone, at least his family died heroes.

“All right. Let’s do it.”

\---

Lexi berated her the entire time, but never raised her voice. It seemed that she was  disappointed in her rather than angry. Ryder would have been more comfortable with angry.

“Dying—even temporarily—is never okay.”

Lexi continued on with the check to ensure that Ryder hadn’t suffered any more permanent damage, her trust not yet fully restored in SAM. After their mediated conversation and whatever the AI had manage to do to restore Ryder’s health, she should have been on her knees thanking it. “I’m putting you on bedrest for at least the next four days. I’d rather it be a week, but I know that you won’t listen to me.”

A smile spread across Ryder’s face, scrunching her cheeks. “Thanks, Lexi, I’ll promise I’ll try to take it easy for a few days. Maybe start to do some of those relaxing activities you sent me.”

“Start?” The doctor asked incredulously. “You might be physically fine, aside from a great deal of scrapes and bruises, but that doesn’t mean you always come back from a fight mentally fine.” The asari sighed and typed notes at the keyboard next to the examination table. “You know I’m always here to talk about anything personal. It’s my job.”

Ryder fell silent. Recently, SAM had taken that job with her. SAM was the shoulder to lean on, the ear that listened, the curious counselor that asked her challenging questions to make her think deeply about her feelings. It probably wasn’t healthy in that she talked to an advanced machine of her father’s invention more than she talked to a human being at this point. Without Scott, most of her deeper connections were disappearing.

She thought about all the recent conversations she had with her crew and realized she’d avoided dealing with almost everyone unless it was absolutely necessary. Apart from her meeting with Lexi now, in the past few days she only had a small group of actual conversations: Liam’s issue, Gil’s Archon advice, Cora’s tactical planning for the Archon’s ship, and Reyes’…Well whatever she had reached with Reyes that she had yet to follow-up on.

Otherwise, she would spend her time talking to SAM, mostly about her family. SAM would question her about the memories of Alec she had begun to recover, both helping it understand the human condition and assisting her to process her thoughts. Many times it would lead to discussions about her mother and, of course, her brother Scott. And when she wasn’t talking to SAM about Scott, she was back in the Hyperion’s med bay, talking to Scott in the hopes of helping him awake, and then talking to Harry Carlyle to discuss Scott’s condition and why he wasn’t waking up.

In all of this talking to actual humans, did she ever have the chance to talk about herself?

In truth, it was something Ryder was never comfortable with. It was a great deal easier to listen and help others through their personal problems, but the woman always choked back her own feelings. She never trusted anyone as much as she trusted Scott, except now she lumped all her faith in SAM. Quite literally, it seemed, after she let SAM kill her and bring her back to life. Maybe talking to Lexi wouldn’t be such a horrible idea. “Actually, Lexi, can I tell you something?”

The doctor pushed the keyboard away from her and turned to face her patient. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for.”

Ryder was ready to open her mouth and have everything tumble out like a waterfall. “ _I miss Scott and he’s all I think about. I keep avoiding Jaal because I hate dealing with confrontation. My dad’s been leaving his personal memories from his grave for me to see. I slept with a dangerous smuggler that I don’t actually know anything about. I’ve cheated death twice and I’m pretty sure it’s three strikes and I’m out at this point.”_ There was so much to say at once, maybe that’s why a silent whine escaped from her instead of actual words. Where had Ryder’s confidence disappeared to? Here was a person, kind and caring, willing to listen to her every problem and she couldn’t make the effort to tell her.

“Ryder, are you okay? Really, it can be about anything, whatever you say stays in this room.”

The Pathfinder blinked, bringing her thoughts back into focus.

“I just…Thanks. Thanks for looking out for me.”

If Lexi had known she was struggling to share her thoughts, she didn’t make a deal about it. “Anytime. Now get some rest, Sara.”

Ryder trudged the short distance to her room, utterly disappointed in her inability to communicate as of lately. SAM would ask her about what happened, as SAM did for everything. Frankly, she wasn’t in the mood, despite apparently not being in the mood to talk to a sentient being who could actually empathize with her. Except SAM didn’t do that when she stumbled across her doorway. Instead, the animatronic voice sounded in her mind a statement she was almost going tired of hearing. “Pathfinder, you have new e-mail at your terminal.”

Slumping into her seat at her desk, Ryder secretly hoped she had a message from Harry, but it wasn’t likely. Most likely it was a lecture from Tann, written with so much anger that it would be rife with typos.

It wasn’t a message from Tann, nor was it a message from Addison. It wasn’t a message from Evfra or the Moshae. It wasn’t a message from Harry, or the other Pathfinders, or even anyone in the entire Initiative. It was a message from Reyes. Finally.

Ryder expected to be ecstatic, to be jumping in her seat as her heart pounded in her chest. Exaggeration aside, the man was _good_ in bed, especially when his fingers entered the game. For a few blissful hours, Ryder was able to leave the idea of being the Pathfinder locked away as his suave voice caressed her eardrums with his words of worship. She should be a melting puddle on the cool floor of her ship, heated by the thought of having him all over again.

Except she wasn’t. Ryder wasn’t excited, Ryder wasn’t thrilled, Ryder wasn’t even slightly amused. Ryder wasn’t anything.

Because how could things ever be the same after her death?

“I have found research that points to a human phenomenon of personality and lifestyle change after a near-death experience,” SAM chimed in, as he read her thoughts. “Perhaps you are going through the same phenomenon following your actual death experience.”

“You might be right, SAM.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading. The fact that many of you stop by and leave me kudos is incredibly heartwarming. Thank you all for the support!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry that this update is coming many months after the last. I have been so busy with holidays, finishing graduate school, writing for professional reasons, and a myriad of other events. This story was not going to die without an ending, and we only have a few chapters left. Thank you to all that are reading this, you know I appreciate it. I just wanted to be able to write a quick (not so quick anymore) story that was inspired by the events of the game which we unfortunately will not get to continue.   
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own Mass Effect: Andromeda nor its characters.

_Present_

Ryder should not be surprised that Havarl continued to be the pillar of lush life in Andromeda, but her eyes had to take in every shade of blue and purple that she could see. Havarl was absolutely _beautiful_ and it broke her heart to know that they almost had lost it all—the destabilizing planet had been so close to swallowing itself up and allowing all its magnificent foliage to crumple to the vibrant ground.

The abandoned buildings, hostile Roekaar, and the distant sound of Akksul’s speech were enough to dampen her perception of the area. Peebee shouted something from where she was taking down two of the extremist fighters with the help of her biotics, but Ryder couldn’t hear it over the sound of gunfire pounding in her ears. “Don’t give them an opening!” Jaal ordered.

When the bullets stopped flying, Ryder made sure to ask Jaal if any of his family members were in the fight. Thankfully, not a single one was among the bodies now littered throughout the Forge. Ryder could feel her fist twitching. It was easy to kill Remnant, machines that were only programmed to take down intruders. People, no matter who, were still hard.

“There’s a bridge to the ruins beyond those doors,” Jaal said, stopping her after she unlocked the door to another empty building with the help of SAM. “My family should be there.” Ryder nodded his head to him and opened the door to be greeted with the sight and sound of explosions.

\---

_Ten Days Earlier_

If Sloane wasn’t such a massive bitch, Ryder was sure she would admire her. She can respect a strong woman who can make a name for herself and kick major ass, but her methods were beyond extreme. There was never an excuse for pushing around and extorting the residents of Kadara Port like she did.

Maybe that’s why Ryder called a full team meeting after Sloane sent her a call for help. “I don’t trust it,” Drack grunted.

Vetra draped her arms over the circular railing at the center of the meeting space. “Pretty sure we already had that covered.” Each syllable of her response was laced with her subharmonics and sarcasm.

On the other side of the circle stood the more innocent members of the crew, the most notable of the bunch being Liam with his hands clenched into fists so hard that he might break all ten of his fingers. “This is definitely a trap, right? Right? Got to be one.”

“He’s not going,” decided Drack.

“Thanks, but I think I’m supposed to be making that call,” Ryder said, finally cutting into the conversation. “And he’s definitely not going.”

“Hey!”

The smaller woman walked up to the larger soldier with the most commanding pose could muster, despite how the brown strands of her ponytail swished against her shoulders with every step. “No offense, Liam, but I need people that are going to stay calm and collected, AND can handle the worst that Kadara has to offer. This week, you’ve proven to meet none of that criteria.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Liam dropped his head to avoid her steely gaze. “Fair enough. I learned my lesson.”

With a nod, Ryder turned back to the rest of her crew. “That’s that. Cora, I need you here, too. I’d rather keep you safe here when I know that we’re walking into a trap.”

The furrow in Cora’s brow was deep enough to ensure she would have permanent wrinkles in less than two years. “You better not be planning on dying again.”

“Ever hear third time’s a charm? I’m worried that might be true.” Ryder considered the four remaining options for this expedition. Vetra, her go-to teammate for Kadara’s shady policies, would probably need to be her right hand for this mission. The turian was agile and discreet, unlike her other options. Drack had the experience for this, but might end up calling Sloane’s bluff too soon and have them fail in the one thing they _don’t_ want to have happen: springing a trap. PeeBee, fierce yet unpredictable, possessed the ability to get them out of a close fight. She also was the leader in getting them into dangerous situations in the first place. Finally, there was Jaal, who was standing against the balustrade by the staircase with his arms firmly crossed against his chest. Ryder was an idiot if she thought the Angaran wouldn’t complain throughout the entire ordeal. She was officially tired of hearing “I hate Kadara” in his deep baritone.

No way was he going to jeopardize this mission.

“Okay, you’re off the hook, Jaal.”

Jaal visibly untensed his body, the purple limbs relaxing out of his stiffened posture. “Thank you, Ryder.”

“If he gets out, then I get out!”

All heads turned to the figure sitting on the chair. Ryder’s left eyebrow traveled up her forehead. “You really don’t want in on this?”

“Walk right into the lair of the scary traitor who beats people for shits and giggles?” PeeBee scoffed, rising from her seated position on one of the chairs in the room. “Count me out, I kinda like my face the way it is.”

Ryder’s steel blue eyes fell on the only two teammates she had left for this mission, unless somehow Suvi and Gil wanted to step up to the plate and take one for the team. Literally, she meant, as Gil was awful at dodging. “We’re in,” Drack offered for the two of them.

Kallo’s voice sounded over the ship’s intercom as soon as Ryder gave her volunteers an approving nod of her head. “Twenty minutes from Kadara Port. I certainly hope you know what you’re doing.”

So did she.

\---

There was some odd, sick pride Ryder held for herself in how rare it was for her to cry. Not so often did even the slightest tear fall down her cheek, including her time as a toddler. Every bump or cut was met with a red face pulled tight, but no sobs. At least, not compared to Scott, who would cry as soon as he saw blood. Alec tried his hardest not to chastise his son for naturally showing emotions, but Scott was making it hard with every scraped knee.

Over the years, Scott’s pain tolerance grew to meet Sara’s, but it didn’t leave him any less sensitive. There were a few times during their teen years when Sara would look over at her brother while they were watching a vid to find that he was the source of the small sniffles she was hearing. She teased him, of course, as any nudgy twin sister would do. Still, Sara wouldn’t cry. The next day, Sara would always apologize, knowing how much of an ass she was being. Certain aspects of their lives, like showing genuine emotions, were off limits. “ _The day you finally cry, I’ll make sure that I throw this right back at you.”_

She tried her best to keep her tears in later, to stay strong in the face of utter despair, when Scott met her back in the Citadel before they were to rush to see Ellen. It was getting worse—progressing to the point of hospitalization when they received the message from their father. Sara didn’t bother hiding her tears then, not when Scott ran straight across the docking bay to scoop up her breaking form into a desperate embrace. “ _I don’t think I’m ready for this_ ,” he had whispered to her, afraid that his voice would betray him if he spoke up any louder. Other people of various origins continued to walk around the pair, glancing at the huddled mess with pitiful looks as the rushed off to their own destinations. Sara didn’t care, not when she was so close to losing her mother.

“ _Me neither_.”

Scott didn’t keep his promise that day.

After years of practice with her brother, Ryder had become perceptive to when people were trying to hold back their tears. The light from the window, the only illumination in the dingy room, caught a twinkle at the corner of Sloane’s eye as she detailed Kaetus’ fate. She didn’t care for her bodyguard boyfriend, nor for the Queen Bitch herself, but this woman was her one-way ticket to finally tracking down the elusive Charlatan and gaining an outpost for the Initiative on a planet she restored.

In the end, it wasn’t Sloane’s strength of character that emerged in her encounter with her enemy, nor was it his underhanded clever plan. It was Ryder’s white-hot rage at being betrayed and her inability to make a quick decision. Sloane Kelly fell to the rocky cave floor with blood trickling from her gut. What an ungraceful death for a fearsome woman. If it wasn’t for SAM, Ryder wouldn’t have processed any of the duel before her, let alone the unfair sniper trained on Kadara’s leader. Yet even as she lay dead before her, Ryder could only think about her dominating emotion: anger.

Nothing made her more pissed than when her heart still skipped a beat at hearing that familiar line. “You look like you’re waiting for someone.”

Reyes was a lying fucking snake. A lying snake that was currently explaining his plans for Kadara like he was at the head of a conference table in the meeting room of a major cooperation.

In truth, Ryder wasn’t fully dissatisfied with Sloane’s death. The Initiative dissenter was a disaster for the people of Kadara, a dangerous tyrant that profited off of the taxes and deaths of its inhabitants. But at least she was honest.

“Why didn’t you trust me?” she asked him, demanding reasoning for his deception.

The figure that now belonged—no, always belonged—to the Charlatan of Kadara Port paused in front of her, his shoulders heaving in a sigh. When he turned to her, the only emotion that graced his face was sorrow. “I liked the way you looked at me,” he said in his husky accent. “I was afraid that would change.”

It should have stirred her, like it had in the past. Like it had every time a man had asked her to give him another chance while they lied straight to her face.  Instead, she was ice—a cold body numb to any more fake promises and apologies. Every word that came out from her mouth in response was laced with bitter pain. “You’re not the man I thought you were.”

“I wanted to be.”

And he still wasn’t when she walked back wordlessly to the Nomad with Vetra and Drack.

\---

_Thanks and an update_

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Harry Carlyle_

_Sara,_

_I’d like to start out with some apologies—I’ve been late on the updates for your brother. It’s been backed up here with the TH-314 scare. I’m sorry it all ended the way it did. We only just started to hear about the Roekaar after the attempted attack on Podromos and now we know how dangerous they can be. If it wasn’t for you, I doubt we’d have much of a future here in Andromeda. Honestly, I could say that about everything you’ve done for us in the Initiative so far. You’re really making us honored to call you our Pathfinder, kiddo. I’m being serious about that._

_Now for the good news, and the real reason I’m sending this message. I don’t want to get your hopes up, but it may be best to get to the Hyperion soon. Your brother remains in a stable, comatose state, but I’ve had SAM monitoring him closely. SAM says that his vitals are strong, and we should be prepared for him to be awake any time now._

_We’re going to have Scott back real soon. When he wakes up, I’m sure he will be very proud of you, as we all are here._

_-Harry, because I’m technically not Dr. Carlyle to you anymore_

 

Ryder read the message at her e-mail terminal in silence. It was silent in the Nomad ride back to the Tempest. It was silent when Kallo got them back on safely until Suvi pestered them with questions. “How was it? What happened?” she asked. Vetra answered for as Ryder stalked to her cabin and locked the door. The radio, normally bursting with Ryder’s favorite club beats, stayed off. Only the sound of the stream of water from the shower head accompanied the Pathfinder until SAM’s hub on her desk turned a brilliant blue.

“One of your father’s memories is now accessible. Return to SAM Node on the Hyperion to investigate further.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much again for reading and I appreciate all your kudos!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are always appreciated, even it's to just say hello.


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